


Entropy

by tanxiaolian



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Gen, Hirohito - Freeform, Ideology, Introspection, Krennic - mentioned, Military, Moral Ambiguity, Philosophy, Politics, Propaganda, Science Fiction, Self-Doubt, Space Fascists, Technology, Thrawn - mentioned, Unreliable Narrator, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2018-09-23 14:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9660332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanxiaolian/pseuds/tanxiaolian
Summary: What kind of person would sacrifice the billions of civilian inhabitants of the Hosnian system for his vision of “peace”? What fuels the First Order’s crusade against what they believe to be a corrupt New Republic?Insights into the mindset and ideology of First Order characters in light of the events after the destruction of Starkiller Base.





	1. An Unpleasant Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work will feature various introspective vignettes providing insights into the minds of various First Order characters, while fleshing out an actual plot in the background. Hang in :)
> 
> Recommended listening: Worldless by I Will Never Be The Same

He was not a man to harbour illusions, had never tended to allot any brain capacity for what-ifs and daydreams. Certainly, extensive test scenarios and technical systems analyses with the goal to come up with alternative solutions – even emergency plans like the one currently in place – were an essential part of his duties as the leader of what had probably been the most ambitious stellar weapons project in the history of sentient life. But far be it from him to indulge in idle weaknesses like intellectual masochism.

Even if he had played out nightmarish situations in his head, tortured himself with contemplations of possible failure – his present circumstances were so absurd, he would never have considered the string of events leading up to _this_. He sucked in the chilly air – did the recycled air of a shuttle always taste as nauseatingly metallic? -, rested his pounding head against the durasteel wall behind him and started reporting to himself for the nth time in order to stay awake, to turn the inescapable horror into clarity:

_1701 Total oscillator failure begins_

_1703 Exceptional audience with Supreme Leader Snoke_

_1705 Commencement of appropriate evacuation and contingency plans_

_1708 Execution of Lt. Rodinon and 6 stormtroopers for insubordination und moral subversion_

_1711 Surprising communication by Cpt. Phasma, who – despite not receiving corresponding orders – was already supervising the evacuation of the base’s peripheral facilities_

_1716 Departure from control centre by Upsilon-class shuttle, search for Kylo Ren_

_1728 Search successfully completed, departure from collapsing Starkiller Base via emergency hyperspace protocol_

Said Kylo Ren lay on the ground opposite him, his irregular breathing punctured by pained noises drowned out the soothing murmur of the engines. Apart from that and occasional wailing, the black-clad man rather resembled a mangled corpse. His garishly pale face was distorted into in a grimace of pure agony. In combination with the cauterised wound stretching from his forehead to his cheekbone and his uneven features, the expression appeared barely human, almost ethereal.

On one occasion, after hacking away at the long-range communication consoles on Deck Esk with abandon, he had explained the imperative necessity of his volatile behaviour with the nature of the Dark Side. It required – much like a vengeful deity of some primitive tribal societies, Hux had unsolicitedly commented – a sacrificial offering of pain, rage or passion. In return, the Force would bestow the worthy with inconceivable power.

What a convenient way to give his childish tantrums a higher purpose. If the force wielder had at least proved to be of some use! Sacrifices were all well and good – each and every one of them had to shoulder hardships, officers, technicians and soldiers alike, united under the crimson banner of the First Order. But where had the legendary Force been that fateful day? Certainly not with its irrational disciple Kylo Ren. Now they we sitting – or lying, as it were – in this cramped shuttle, each of them half-dead in his own way, fully at Snoke’s mercy.

The irony of the situation was not lost on the general. It reminded him of a poem an old comrade had scratched on the back of his identification tags:

_You and I are hourglasses_

_Just you and me_

_Time erupts but has no pity_

_And like lava I wish our bodies could freeze*_

Of course, he only knew these verses because the officer in question was no longer alive. Having been placed in charge of the young sniper’s unit, it had been Hux’ responsibility to inform the family members of the man's demise. The list of casualties the terror attack on Starkiller had resulted in would be inconceivable. The victims all had given their lives up for a greater cause, the pursuit of a unified, glorious, _orderly_ future – in stark contrast to the self-centred, corrupt elite on Hosnian Prime. What things would future generations learn about their lives and struggles? That was up to the survivors. History is written by the victors, after all. Their task hereafter was as obvious as it was unshirkable.

He could not fathom the Force being present on this transport vessel, either. The would-be knight was fighting for his pathetic life, the dark blood seeping through the bandages yet another pointless offering on the altar of the Dark Side. _The darkness feeds on its children._ Yet, Hux had not sworn his oath for _this_ : the support of occult dalliances, the galaxy-wide hunt for Skywalker – unless the aging Jedi could bring down Starkiller from afar with nothing but the power of his mind, there was absolutely no urgency to find him. Snoke had brushed his exasperated petitions aside with an ominous smirk.

And the result was the wanton destruction of his life’s work due to a kriffing _family feud_. If he had received the order to kill his father, he would have carried out this task with utmost efficiency and subtlety. And he would have catalogued the instant Brendol had to acknowledge this _final_ act of disappointment, the instant the light left his cruel eyes at last, as one of the few truly blissful moments in his life.

One of the greatest insults had been the order to share his well-earned command with Snoke’s protégé – a man 5 years his junior who had never exhibited a quantum of leadership ability or tactical prowess, despite his grandiose title Master of the Knights of Ren. The Finalizer was _his_ flagship, part of the recognition he deserved for his accomplishments with regards to the planning, construction and administration of Starkiller Base. He had nothing to do with the Force, and yet he had involuntarily offered up the most significant, personal sacrifice. His legacy, his command, his whole career and, depending on Snoke’s mood upon being reunited with his disciple, perhaps even his life.

_Failure is never the end. Only if you give up, the fight will be over._

An Academy instructor had once whispered these words of wisdom to him, as Hux had found himself confronted with a well-nigh insurmountable battle simulation. Back then, it had felt patronizing, but now he was grateful for the reminder. He pushed his aching body up the cold wall and push himself off, using the physical sensation to regain his composure. He could not allow himself to cultivate his ire, his growing loathing. How he would love to blindly vent his rage – maybe not swing Ren’s obsolete laser blade around, but instead forcefully plant his torn boots into the ribs of the ridiculous figure prone before him, scratch Rens obscene face into bloody shreds with his bare fingers or strangle him with his very own blood-crusted bandages. Such conduct was not befitting an officer of his station, however – he had already sunken to unfathomable depths. It was not suitable to improve their current situation, either. Pragmatism was the order of the day. Conversely, emotionalism, sentimentality even, was Ren’s uncontested domain. For now, it was necessary to endure the unendurable and suffer what is insufferable.** An apt phrasing, of which he made a mental note for his next speech. His time would come. Armitage Hux, the youngest general in recent history, would not be humiliated. Stars were born from collapsed matter. Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve greatly. And yet: _His base had caused stars to perish. What if the mechanisms of the universe called for reciprocity, demanded something in return for the ability to utilize all of a sun’s energy at once?_ Were he a more impressionable man, he might have entertained such philosophical parallelisms.

Rens sudden moan pulled him from his fatalistic thoughts. Instinctively, Hux fell to his knees next to wounded ally in order to push his chest back down, preventing his perfunctory stitches from opening.

“Quiet, Ren, you will aggravate your wounds!” Hux hissed.

“Where is ... the girl?” came the agitated reaction after a brief, confused pause.

“There was no one with you. She must have fled after striking you down. That is her handiwork, isn’t it?” He motioned towards Ren’s waist and face. It was only at that point that he noticed the glassy look in the eyes of the younger man. Wound fever? Madness?

“Stomach wound… was a bowcaster.” Hux lifted an eyebrow – of course Solo would have brought his rabid Wookie. At least, the smuggler was dead. In his delirium, the force-user had repeatedly told him as much as he lay bleeding in the snow. Ren drew a stifled breath. “She is strong in the Force… untrained … I should bring her … before Snoke.” Ren’s head dropped to one side, for the first time that day he looked Hux straight in the eyes, unmasked, almost pleadingly.

“First I will take you to the Supreme Leader. The desert rat can wait.”

“Are we … on the Finalizer?” the injured panted.

“No, on your shuttle. After the collapse of the base, there was no opportunity to return to _my ship_. Apparently, you are more important to Leader Snoke than the fate of the First Order.” He failed to banish the bitterness from his voice.

“Careful, Hux… sounds like … treason.“

Hux icy laughter filled the room. “Treason? You ought to be more familiar with the concept than I am. Who gave the Resistance the opportunity to destroy the oscillator, _during_ the energy conversion process? 30 seconds, Ren! Then D'Qar would have joined the Hosnian System, instantly enabling the First Order to bring peace and structure to the whole galaxy!” Once again, he had talked himself into a rage. “Do you ever ponder the consequences of your actions? Do you ever consider the bigger picture?”

“A technocrat like you… claims to be on top of all things … General?” Rens voice had grown more stable, conveniently allowing to mock Hux. “Whose pride allowed the compromising of the shields and the intrusion of the resistance fighters? Perhaps you should have taken a redundant design into consideration?”

Indeed, the case of the oscillator shields would have to be investigated. But a second oscillator? Rerouting of energy within the base, regardless of the adaption losses and attenuation? Apparently Ren lacked technical understanding, too. Even if such safety mechanisms had been feasible, they would not have been able to meet the construction deadlines. And who had forced the First Order's hand to begin with? 

He would no longer listen to such ridiculous accusations coming from the very man whose shortcomings had become so poignantly obvious at the only time his abilities had mattered. “Well, Kylo Ren,” he whispered condescendingly, slowly rising from his position and turning away from the wretched figure. “You seem to have recovered enough to spout unsubstantiated claims and deny your own colossal failure. I will order the pilot to plot a direct route to Snoke’s citadel.”

“Who is piloting my ship?!” Ren yelled, his voice breaking pathetically.

“Appropriately enough, I found a Lieutenant for the task who hates you almost as much as I do.” With virtually painful finality, the doors slid shut behind the general, leaving Ren to his beloved darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * from White Flag by The Romanovs  
> **Quote by Hirohito
> 
> Would appreciate feedback, I've never written fiction before.


	2. Survival of the Fittest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Mitaka's turn.

Admittedly, First Lieutenant Mitaka would not have volunteered for this quite out-of-the-ordinary mission. He had ended up on this muggy, nameless planet nevertheless for a reason that was simultaneously mundane and peculiar: He had relayed Hux’ barked orders to ready Ren’s shuttle to Flight Control and had subsequently been dragged along by the irate general. Getting from the Surface Vessel hangar to the priority collection point for bridge and control room officers as stipulated by the evacuation protocols would have posed an impossible endeavor. After a perfunctory discussion of his flight experience with Upsilon-class vessels – a few hours of simulations during which he had been lauded for his exceptional performance – he was designated pilot for their rather suicidal undertaking. The three snowtroopers accompanying them had earned their preferential escape from the collapsing planet en passant as well.

Currently, he enjoyed their quiet company sitting on the shuttle’s access ramp and allowed his thoughts to wander. Did they have to come to terms with the proceedings, too? Or did their conditioning provide them with the mental tools to simply push their experiences aside, in order to remain unwavering in their commitment to their duties? Mitaka surveyed the grotesque terrain laid out before them. The dreary jungle, which should have been a lush biotope teeming with life, appeared to be subject to all sorts of decomposition processes. Small mammals crawled with the unswervingly desperate resolution of the dying through the bilious green sludge covering the ground. Every so often, in a bizarre display of the coexistence of life and death, fat maggots residing in their bristly fur began to eat their way into the soft skin, pulsating with satisfaction as they did so. Palm-sized, splinter-shaped insectoids buzzed in alarmingly large swarms around the fleshy flowers that sprang up on most surfaces and gave off a putrid smell. Layers of greyish lichens with a burnt appearance covered the thick tree trunks framing the small clearing they had landed in. _It was as if all biological processes had been inverted. Or even - perverted._ The fermented, nauseatingly sweet smell of decay surrounding them had permeated their clothes and made their minds sluggish. After the four days they had already spent waiting, they barely noticed it anymore.

When Ren, supported by a very reluctant General Hux, had slowly drudged through the mud with pained steps, the continued survival of the unlikely pair had quickly provided proof that the slime was not toxic, or at least not immediately fatal. _Nevertheless, their surroundings were far from inviting._

Mitaka had never encountered the Supreme Leader, he could not fathom what kind of creature would _choose_ to remain in such a sepulchral place despite his sheer wealth of power. With a mentor like that it was hardly surprising that the only consistent element of Ren’s disposition was his closeness to insanity. At any rate, the first among the Knights of Ren had turned out to be fully human, as Mitaka had inadvertently found out a few days ago. _But what about the other adherents of that mysterious order? Perhaps they were methane-breathers, hence the dependency on their masks… or horribly disfigured, causing anyone looking upon them to flee in terror._ Did the Supreme Leader wear a mask, too? Wouldn’t General Hux merely have seen holograms of him up to now? Ren on the other hand ought to know Leader Snoke in person; he must have been received training from him after all. It didn’t matter, in the Citadel they would meet in the flesh. He did not envy his two superiors.

In fact, Mitaka was quite worried about his General, to whom he had always given the highest degree of respect. Some NCOs, whose tasks concerning weapon maintenance and upgrades he had supervised, used to make light of his professional admiration and would occasionally gossip behind his back, insinuating that he instead had a rather unsavoury, inappropriate obsession with his commanding officer. Even if there had even been a grain of truth to these idle taunts – he would in fact prefer facing an unwarranted firing squad for intended fraternization to helplessly rotting on this forsaken planet, all the while Leader Snoke entertained himself by torturing the Order’s brightest. Even in Ren’s case, he could not bring himself to muster any malicious glee. The fate of the two commanders would be their own. Presumably that of their organization as well.

How had the First Order’s subjugation to Snoke come about in the first place? The military rank system of their group had at no point required such an elevated figure. He could only assume that the old Imperials, his parents’ generation, had been longing for an undisputed, law-giving authority. An emperor did not suit the nature of the military junta growing in the unforgiving exile in the Unknown Regions, so it had to be a portentous puppet master acting from behind the scenes. Of course, Mitaka knew he was too young to have noticed any shift in hierarchical dynamics. Even the General, barely ten years his senior, couldn’t know any different. He remembered one of Thrawn’s notable stratagems.

_Know your enemy and know yourself, find naught in fear for 100 battles.*_

But what fate would befall a military force which did not even know its leaders? The young lieutenant considered his General to be a pragmatic, level-headed commanding officer striving for cold efficiency and excellence in all areas. Despite his cocksure demeanor, he would always act selflessly and have a sympathetic ear for the needs of those serving under him. Even the other members of High Command, three Grand Admirals and the Director of Internal Security, had not seemed completely aloof on the rare occasions Mitaka had been brought along as replacement for Hux’ usual adjutant. Whereas Snoke was the great unknown parameter – what were his intentions? And what would happen in the inevitable case that his vision and the Orders goals drift apart: Yet another costly civil war or the creeping disease to which the Empire had fallen prey? Did Snoke care at all about the proceedings of war or the daily struggle for sustenance beyond the Outer Rim? On the other hand, Kylo Rens deplorable behaviour most likely was not indicative of his master’s meddling and motives. Even worse: He had confronted the Resistance terrorists in battle and lost. If anyone personally was to blame for their current predicament, it was Ren.

Ultimately, they – the crew of the Finalizer, having literally dedicated body and mind to the greater good – had been the courageous vanguard, the harbingers of the valiant, but practically megalomaniacal venture to obliterate all opposition in a single crushing preemptive strike in order to avoid decades of bloody skirmishes. A gloved hand placed reassuringly _(for Mitakas benefit or his own?)_ on his shoulders, Hux had opened his eyes to that truth as they approached this planet. Of course, the Resistance would prefer war, it was their raison d'être after all. It would keep up the illusion of efficacy of their damned guerilla tactics and provide them with ample opportunity for individual heroism – all of which was doomed to fail in the long run.

"Sir?" Patience didn't seem to be CR-1132's forte.  
  
"What is it, Sergeant?"  
  
"More than 90 hours have passed since General Hux and Commander Ren departed." He hesitated  briefly. "Should we...go look for them?"  
  
"No, we received unequivocal orders to remain here." The soldier did not move, irritating Mitaka with his stubborness. Wasn't the conditioning designed to program such impulses out of them? "Do you need to stretch your legs?"  
  
"I would welcome the opportunity, Sir, unfortunately, the terrain looks unsuitable for such idle endeavours."  
  
Mitaka sighed imperceptively. "Indeed. Go do some drills in the shuttle until we receive new orders or intel." He hoped his inexperience in leading actual people instead of relaying orders at a console didn't show.  
  
The snowtrooper, who like the others had been allowed - admittedly in a glaring breach of protocol - to remove his helmet and parts of his armour days before due to the atrociously hot and humid climate, turned on his heels and stomped towards the vessel. He was promptly joined by one of his two comrades.  
  
A few moments later, the remaining trooper's faint voice interrupted Mitaka's internal monologue about the ramifications of their current mission. "Is it not possible that something has happened to them? This jungle, the citadel..." She gestured vaguely towards the bizarre piece of architecture in the hazy distance.  
  
The young lieutenant was determined not to embarrass himself in front of a mere trooper, despite their increasingly informal interactions. Strange times indeed.  
  
"The area is obviously dangerous, but as you should know, General Hux as well as Lord Ren are skilled fighters in their own right. As for the Supreme Leader's evaluation of their performance..." He coughed lightly - the air was quite oppressive after all - "He is wise. Whatever directives he issues, we will prove our loyalty."  
  
The younger woman nodded, her confidence visibly bolstered. "Yes, Sir, that is our duty and pursuit in life." Idly, the lieutenant handed her half of the bland ration bar he had just unwrapped. „Thank you, Sir.“ Her eyes were wide with surprise. Mitaka internally chasticed himself for his unprofessional behaviour - but he was Navy, after all, well-versed in technical matters. Army officers clearly required a rather different brand of leadership. Plus, for once there was no one supervising him. Perhaps - in the absolute worst case scenario - he already was the highest ranking FO officer on this planet. Few thoughts were more unsettling to him at that moment.  
  
They chewed in silence, properly honouring the few remaining rations. When they had finished, CR-2745's refreshingly naive voice chimed again. "Sir, what if no one comes back?" He shook his head defiantly, as if to reassure himself as well. "The General shall return. Lord Ren might have been tasked with different objectives. I have no doubt, however, that General Hux will remind the Supreme Leader of his excellence in leadership and strategy. We will soon return to our posts on the Fi-" He stopped mid-sentence as he realised that none of the snowtroopers belonged to the battlecruiser's regular troops, having been stationed on the recently destroyed Starkiller base.  
  
CR-2745 seemed intent on pushing the opportunity to speak freely to the limit. "Won't he be punished for the collapse of the base? Is there some kind of reconditioning..." Mitaka surpressed a mirthless laugh. As if officers were subjected to actual reconditioning. Besmirching the military's honour had rather different consequences. Rodinon, of whom an example had been made swiftly, presented a drastic precedence in this regard. He forced himself to give an honest, but stern reply to prevent the discussion from progressing further in its current direction. "It is possible that certain... decisions might cause those responsible to face repercussions. But do not worry, soldier."  
  
"I apologize, Sir. My questions were inappropiate. I do not presume to understand the deeper ramifications and decisions of leadership. That is the priviledge of officers. I only live to further the First Order's power and glory." There was a silent plea in her words beseeching him not to exact any punishment on her.  
  
The trooper's naiveté was quite endearing. Even Mitaka had not reached a rank that would have allowed him insight into the actual internal workings of their organisation. Maybe it had been this lack of deeper understanding that had lead to Rodinon's distorted prioritisation. He had given the impression of a man who would have had stopped at literally nothing (or no one, regardless of rank) to get promoted. On one notable occasion, he had even managed to get a major discharged dishonourably, for whose supposed incompetence he had collected incriminating material. Mitaka had never quite got along with the older lieutenant and had been grateful for his harmless appearance keeping him from Rodinon's list of potential rivals. That he would go as far as to undermine Hux of all people... Keeping their ranks clear of such chaotic elements was indeed good and necessary.  
  
Of course there was the possibility that Snoke would take Hux' command from him, but it was not his subordinates' place to judge. _If the general's orders are clear, and the soldiers nevertheless disobey, then it is the fault of their officers._ * Another one of Thrawn's theorems Mitaka had memorized in his youth.  
  
The lieutenant was well aware of his own failure. The Finalizer's weapon systems, a non-negligible part of them within his reach of responsibility, would have been required in the battle for Starkiller Base and would most certainly have helped keep the attacking X-Wings at bay. The presence of a large number of experienced, higher-ranking officers on the base during its inaugural firing had put them at a disadvantage. They had disappointed the people in the Unknown Regions counting on them as well as their supporters all over the galaxy.  
  
The snowtrooper seemed to pick up on his tense mood. "Sir, were are just three soldiers and our training for arctic climates won't help much here. But should the situation require it..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well, we are here to ensure your safety, Sir, wherever you might choose to go."  
  
"I appreciate that, CR-2745." He could not hide a small sigh. As if he hadn't considered her suggested plan of action. "What makes you so impatient?"  
  
The dark-haired woman looked sideways, avoiding his questioning gaze. "We ... we lost many brothers and sisters. I'd rather be back on the frontlines to do...something. Anything. In memory of them."  
  
"You shall get the opportunity to avenge your comrades and to show the Resistance that contrary to their beliefs you are not cannon fodder at all."  
  
A faint smile appeared on her chapped lips. "But first we need to get off this planet, Sir."  
  
"If we were to leave now, we'd inadvertently go down in history as the most stupid deserters ever."  
  
"I would not dare suggest we leave without General Hux. But if you gave the order, we'd wallow through this mud without hesitation." She took a deep breath, betraying her nervousness at speaking frankly. "Sir."  
  
"It should be me motivating the troops, not the other way round." Mitaka mused quietly. CR-2745 was right - this was not the time for passive waiting, but for taking charge, regardless of his relative inexperience in this regard. Her resolute words caused a wave of nostalgia to wash over him.  
  
His parents had been young clerks of low importance in the Empire's exuberant bureaucratic apparatus. The fall of the Empire, that many had assumed to be ever-lasting, shattered their modest plans for the future. Considered collaborators, or even outright perpetrators to some, they were unable to regain their livelihood in what would become the New Republic. Their sense of honour - and lack of cold-bloodedness as well as experience with blasters - had precluded them from pursuing a career in smuggling or other lawless activities. The flight to the Unknown Regions, requiring a great deal of blind trust in the organizers comprised of Empire devotees, had been the only option available to them, apart from miserably wasting away in the underground. Yet even in exile, they had battled hunger and the shame of being shunned by the rest of the civilised galaxy. Knowledge of that indignity, the humiliating stab in the back of ordinary civilians, had fuelled Mitaka's resolve to bear through the crushing training at the Academy. He had graduated magna cum laude, but after growing up on a Destroyer hiding in the dark corners of the galaxy, he wanted to serve on the frontline. His application for a transfer to one of the First Order's five flagships after his initial commission, had contained uncharacteristically pretentious quotes, including one by Thrawn: _The art of war teaches us to rely not on the likelihood of the enemy's not coming, but on our own readiness to receive him; not on the chance of his not attacking, but rather on the fact that we have made our position unassailable.*_ Apparently, he had struck a chord as he was soon picked by Hux choosing officers for the Finalizer's bridge personnel.  
  
Mitaka mentally catalogued their remaining provisions – a sobering endeavour, obviously no one had prepared for their current predicament - and jumped up with new resolve that surprised even himself.  
  
"CR-2745, get the other two. It's time to give some orders."  
  
The snowtrooper grinned widely. "At last, Sir."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Actually, that's a quote by Sunzi, not Thrawn ;)


End file.
